


The Last Resort

by Ameiko



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Healing, Past Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 12:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3173884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ameiko/pseuds/Ameiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina came to Jamaica to bury her past. She wasn't expecting that a double booked villa would lead to her future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the lovely ReginaofLocksley. A huge thanks to ModernlifeofAsh for betaing this and being amazing. Also thanks to Trina-Deckers for her input on this.

 The Last Resort

 

Part 1

 

“What do you mean the villa is double booked?” Regina demanded, drumming her perfectly manicured nails on the marble counter top. The controlled rage in her voice must have come across loud and clear because the clerk behind the computer took in a sharp breath as her fingers flew over the keyboard.

 

“I'm very sorry, ma'am, but it seems that there was a glitch in our system. The first rental agreement was actually signed before yours. We'll gladly refund your money and set you up in one of the smaller villas for free,” she offered, pasting on a hopeful smile.

 

Biting her lip hard, Regina tried to reign in her temper. She'd landed in Jamaica nearly four hours ago, and her patience was wearing thin. Granted, her mood hadn't been the best since she'd boarded the plane back in Maine to start this idiotic trip. This was supposed to be a way for her to let go of the past, but so far the only thing that she'd been able to let go of her hope that things might turn out all right.

 

“Look, this is a very important trip for me,” she said slowly. “I will offer to pay a portion of this couple's stay if they can just let me have the villa. Could I just talk to them for a minute?”

 

The young woman looked around nervously. “It would be against hotel policy,” she said, her voice dropping low as she nodded toward a man standing near the ornate entry way. “His privacy is one of our top concerns.”

 

“Can't have you breaking any rules, can we?”

 

Regina smiled slyly and slide a pair of expensive sunglasses back on. Studying her target from across the lobby, she had to admit that he was a handsome man. Tall and muscularly built with sandy hair, he exuded a sort of easy confidence that most women wouldn't be able to resist. Regina wasn't most women. As she approached, a piercing set of blue eyes met her shaded gaze.

 

“Hello,” he said with a genuine smile.

 

“Hi,” she replied, suddenly feeling like an awkward teen. “I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if by any chance you had rented the grand villa for the week?

 

“I did,” he answered. His once open stance closed at once, and she knew that this wasn't going to be as easy as she'd hoped.

 

Flashing her most innocent look at him coyly, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I know this is unorthodox, but I was wondering how much it would take for you to maybe trade down for the week for me? I know that you are probably here for a romantic get away with your wife, and this is a huge thing to ask.”

 

“It is a huge thing to ask,” he echoed with a bit of sadness creeping into his tone. “Too much to ask, actually. I am sure that you and your husband will have a lovely time. No matter which villa you stay in, the staff here is wonderful.”

 

“I don't have a husband, and it is very important that I stay at _that_ villa.” Regina crossed her arms over her chest.

 

Something that looked a lot like understanding crossed his features. “Isn't this a coincidence? I need to stay at _that_ villa, too.” He swallowed hard. “And I no longer have a wife.”

 

“Oh,” Regina said flatly. “So now that we've established that we might just be the two most pathetic people on the island, what now?”

 

“Now we get a drink at the bar, and talk about options.”

 

The pair settled on the veranda with glasses of whiskey. An awkward silence settled between them as they each sipped their drinks.

 

“My name's Robin, by the way.”

 

“Regina.” She downed the last of her glass in one swift gulp. “Now that that's out of the way: you said we should talk about options.”

 

Robin sighed before finishing his drink as well. He looked out toward the endless blue ocean before them. “My wife—Marian and I came here on our honeymoon ten years ago. We stayed in that villa, and on our last night, I swore I'd bring her back here someday. Things changed... I changed. It was a promise I didn't keep. I wanted to come back here to honor her memory.”

 

“How touching.” Regina suddenly wished she hadn't emptied her whiskey.

 

“And you? What brought you to Jamaica alone?”

 

“I don't see why it's any of your business,” she snarled.

 

“It's my business if I decide to let you stay in the villa,” Robin argued, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. “You seem to forget that my name is currently on the registry—not yours.”

 

“Point taken,” she muttered.

 

Regina didn't like thinking about Daniel. Even fifteen years later, his memory still had the power to bring her to her knees and leave her sobbing. That was why she rarely spoke of him—all most never, if she were honest. She'd spent years burying the memory and the pain. She doubted Henry even knew that she had been married. And here she was, expected to lay the wound open for a stranger. Now, she really, really wished she hadn't finished that drink. She opened her dry mouth to speak but Robin stopped her.

 

“That was unfair. Forgive me,” he said softly. There was a look in his eyes so sincere that it almost made Regina want to cry.

 

“Does that mean you're giving up the villa?” she asked, feeling an uncharacteristic shard of hope.

 

He shook his head. “It means we're sharing it. The villa is bigger than most people's homes. You can take the master suite, and I'll use on the smaller ones. I don't doubt that we can get on without bother one another too much.”  
  


For the first day, Robin's prediction about barely noticing each other almost came true. The villa was certainly just a big as he had said—much bigger than the pictures showed—and as soon as the villa's butler, Conrad led them to it, they headed to separate rooms. Regina brushed aside the room attendant's help as she unpacked just so she could avoid her “roommate” a bit longer. By the time she'd emerged from the palatial suite, Robin was gone. She wasn't sure why she felt a slight pang of sadness over that fact.

 

“Mr. Locksley had me schedule a sailing lesson for him, my lady,” Conrad said, appearing seemingly out of thin air. “Is there something I can schedule for you?”

 

Regina shook her head. “No, I think I will just lie by the pool for a while.”

 

“Yes, my lady. I will prepare the cabana for you while you change,” the butler said with a slight bow.

 

Within half an hour, Regina was lounging under an umbrella by the villa's private pool with a drink in one hand and a book in the other. She'd been meaning to read the book for months, but she just couldn't seem to focus enough to actually put together the plot in front of her. Since landing in Jamaica, she'd felt off kilter. Nothing felt like it was coming together for her.

 

Setting the book aside, Regina studied the butler who was laying out a stack of fluffy white towels. Conrad was a handsome young man with deep dark skin and a wide smile. She couldn't exactly say how old he was, but she assumed he couldn't be any more than twenty-five. He was dressed in a full suit with a colorful vest and white gloves, despite the brutal Jamaican sun. Even in her strapless white bikini Regina was sweating.

 

“Have you worked for the resort for very long?” she asked as he reached for her empty glass.

 

“Goin' on nine years now,” he replied with a smile. His accent suddenly became more pronounced, as if he was letting himself show just a bit more. “Been a butler almost half of it and a bartender for the other half. It's a good job. Meet lots of people from all around the world.”

 

Seeming to understand her loneliness, Conrad kept popping in and out more than he had before for the rest of the afternoon. Regina soon found that she liked the butler a lot more than she had most people she'd met over the last few years. The only downside was that he seemed to be refilling her drink at least half of the time he was by the pool. She wasn't quite sure what was in the fruity blue concoction, but it tasted amazing and went down way smoother than anything should. By the time Robin returned from his sailing, she was feeling a bit hazy. Her eyes lingered on his bare muscular chest and arms longer than it would have were she thinking clearly.

 

“Looks like you've enjoyed your day,” he smirked, pointing to the half drained glass in her hand.

 

“Well, I see you didn't drown,” she quipped back.

 

Robin let out a deep chuckle that sent an unwanted wave of awareness straight down to her toes. “Since I see you've already had your share of drinks today, could I escort you to dinner perhaps? If I remember correctly, the restaurants in the main resort are all very good. Conrad's already offered to make us reservations if you'd like.”

 

Thumping wildly in her chest, her heart beat out a warning tattoo. She'd been asked out dozens of times over the years. Most men were immediately put off by her icy exterior, but a few had been brave enough to actually invite her out. Hell, she'd even said yes to one or two of them. What set Robin apart from all of them was that he actually intrigued her. He made her want to say yes, and that was a dangerous thing.

 

Slipping on her waiting sandals, Regina pulled herself up with as much dignity as she could manage. “I only said yes to this scheme of yours because I thought you'd leave me alone,” she said bitingly.

 

Locking herself in her suite, Regina curled up on the massive canopy bed and fell asleep. At some point during her nap, the rains that she'd been warned about began. She laid under the sheets watching the dark clouds roll over the ocean from outside the French doors. The bed suddenly felt too large and too empty for her liking. Of its own accord, her hand reached out toward the still made side and caressed the pillow. She closed her eyes and tried to picture Daniel's face there, but somehow the image wasn't coming through as clear as it once did.

 

_You'll forget him soon enough._

 

Her mother's words from so long ago echoed in her brain and felt like someone had dumped ice water over her. Sitting up straight in bed, Regina tossed aside the sheets took deep breaths. No matter what, she refused to let that happen. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to recall ever line and curve of him. She imagined his laughter as she sprayed him with the hose while they washed his vintage Mustang. And then came the memory of him she _wished_ she could allow herself to forget. The echo of his voice as he swore just a bare second before they lost control around that curve followed by bending metal and shattering glass. Her last image of him was of him lying across the steering wheel with his eyes staring blankly back at her. Tucking her feet beneath her on the mattress, she hugged her knees to her chest. Her mother had been wrong: she would never forget him.

 

Before she could fall too deep into her depression, her phone rang. Like the miracle he was, Henry's face popped up on the screen of her iphone.

 

“Hey sweetie,” she answered.

 

“Hi, Mom. You will so never guess what Emma, Killian and I did today,” he gushed. Without missing a beat, he continued on: “Killian took us zip-lining! How cool is that?”  
  


“Pretty cool,” she agreed, forcing a smile into her voice. Henry staying with his birth mother and her boyfriend for the week hadn't been her first choice, but it had been all Henry had wanted. Despite her mistrust of Emma, she'd given in fairly quickly.  
  


“And guess where we're going tomorrow?”

 

“Hmmm, would it be school?”  
  


“Well, yeah,” the tween sighed so heavily she could hear the eyeroll in his voice. He launched into a long list of the things that they had planned for the week, and Regina simply enjoyed listening to his voice.

 

The phone call re-energized her, and she suddenly found herself feeling hungry. Conrad and room service were just the push of a button on the phone away, but she didn't give into the urge to hide any longer. Pulling a blue halter dress from her bag, Regina suddenly felt the need to explore the resort. She fluffed her hair with her fingers and threw on some mascara and lipstick before heading for the door.

 

Outside the birds were singing a wild song through the thick evening air. The humidity clung to her skin the instant she walked through the door. Along the path to the main hub of the resort, Regina passed several couples tucked in little out of the way spots. She averted her gaze from the saccharine sight and forced herself not to sneer at the honeymooners. Thankfully, the piazza wasn't too far from the villa.

 

Dinner was every bit as good as Robin had said it would be. She gave in to the urge to order way too much food and eat every bit. Crème brulée helped smooth out her mood. There was something about cracking the thick, crispy sugar crust open to reveal the smooth custard beneath that never failed to make her smile. She had just set her spoon aside when her waitress appeared with yet another order of the dessert.

 

“I think you have the wrong table,” she said, still in her sugar induced haze.

 

“No, my lady,” the waitress said. She pointed to a corner booth where non-other than Robin sat smiling at her. “He said that if you a good dessert could make you smile like that then you should eat another.”

 

Without a word, Regina tossed her napkin on the table and walked away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to ModernlifeofAsh for being my amazing beta on this.

Part II

 

Robin watched the moon disappear behind a dense patch of clouds. He dragged his toes along the wet sand and sighed as the waves erased the line he'd just drawn. This trip had been a really bad idea. Being in Jamaica didn't make him feel any closer to Marian, and it certainly didn't make him miss her any less. She'd been gone for nearly five years, but sometimes it felt like five minutes. There were days when he swore he could still smell the scent of her hair on the pillow beside him or hear her laugh coming from down the hall. He could still remember the jolt of pain and disbelief that had run through him when he'd gotten the call. But the things he couldn't remember were even worse. He couldn't recall the exact moment when their marriage began to crumble or the moment he decided that he wanted a career more than he needed his wife. Running a hand through his hair, he tried to banish his dark thoughts. None of them would bring Marian back. He wished he thought to grab the bottle of scotch from the villa before coming out here, but he'd been too afraid to face Regina again.

_Regina._

He'd made quite the muddle of things since he'd met her, but he couldn't deny that the woman interested him in a way that no one had in some time. Maybe it was that her own struggle seemed to so closely mirror his own. Robin had to admit that it almost seemed like fate that two of them had rented the villa at the same time. He wasn't even sorry that she was there. Even if she resented the hell out of him at the moment, there was something about her that made him feel less alone. The only thing he would change if he could at the moment was that she was angry with him. There had been a fire in her brown eyes that would have toasted him on the spot if she'd been able to, and he couldn't even really say that he blamed her for it.

From back at the main square, Robin could still hear the music playing into the night. He contemplated going back, but he knew that there really wasn't anything to interest him there. A few desperate bridesmaids had made it crystal clear that he didn't have to be alone for the night if he didn't want to be. Though he had been far from celibate since becoming a widower, the offers didn't entice him. His feet began to move almost of their own volition back to the villa.

Walking up the path toward the pool, he could see the gentle glow of a candle sitting on the patio table. Regina sat with her feet tucked beneath her, and the bottle of scotch sat beside her. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, and she'd changed into a silken pair of purple pajamas. She glanced up at him, but didn't say a word.

“Mind sharing that bottle?” he asked tentatively. His better judgment told him to leave her alone, but somehow he couldn't seem to obey. There was something about her that drew him in

“So long as it's just alcohol we're sharing and not opinions,” she agreed. The drink had given her voice a husky tenor, but her eyes hadn't softened.

“I'm sorry about this evening,” he said as he retrieved a glass from the side bar. “I didn't mean to offend.”

“I'm sure you didn't.”

Robin filled the glass a bit fuller than he usually did. Drinking wasn't how he dealt with his problems back home. Between Roland and work, he rarely had a moment to himself. But his son and his job were many miles away. Why not share a drink with a beautiful woman—even one who didn't like him very much—under a Jamaican sky? Pulling up a chair, he took a long sip of his drink and did his best not to look at Regina.

“Can I ask you something?” Her voice broke the silence several minutes later as they both were nearing the bottom of their glasses.

“Certainly,” he invited, welcoming the conversation.

 “How did your wife die?”

It wasn't the question he'd been expecting. Not so long ago, he'd dreaded being asked just that, but over time, he'd gotten used to answering it. Saying the words over and over again so many times had somehow dulled their sting just enough that he could stomach them.

“She had a brain aneurysm,” he said, staring into the amber liquid in his glass. “I went to work that morning just like any other day and got a phone call just before lunch that my wife was dead. The neighbor—bless her heart—had decided to stop by because she thought Marian looked a little under the weather earlier that morning. She found her lying on the kitchen floor. My son, Roland was screaming in his playpen.”

Robin's stomach turned at the memory, and he instantly realized he'd said far more than he'd intended. It was more than he'd told anyone before. He quickly downed the rest of his drink and poured another. Regina was watching him thoughtfully, but he couldn't say that she was looking at him through the same haze of pity that most women did when he told them about his wife. No, she was no stranger to loss herself.

“His name was Daniel.” Her voice was so soft that it almost didn't sound above the waves crashing bellow.

A tight knot had formed in his throat, but he was able to speak through it. “I'm sorry he died.”

Regina nodded. He thought he could see the sheen of tears in the candle light, but he didn't look closer to confirm it. They sat on there drinking scotch in utter silence for a long time. It was a strange thing to be in one's own mind, but in the company of another. Strange, but not unpleasant. The loneliness that threatened to swallow him whole at times was kept at bay by her wordless presence.

The bottle was half empty when Robin realized that Regina had nodded off at some point. Her head rested on her shoulder charmingly, and he couldn't resist taking the opportunity to look at her without her barriers. Everything from her thick black lashes to the small scar on her upper lip intrigued him. He wondered what she'd been like when Daniel had been alive. He could only imagine a more carefree version of the woman he knew. Giving into a whim, he crouched before her, pulling her into his arms as he hoisted her up. She murmured something incoherently and wrapped her arms around his neck, still slumbering on. Though not exactly feather-light, her weight felt right in his arms. He reluctantly laid her on the bed in the master suite and pulled the sheets over her. As he closed the door behind him, Robin couldn't help but wish he'd been invited to stay in that bed along side her. Instead, he crept back to his room and fell into a deep slumber.

Unused to sleeping in, Robin woke not long after the sun came up. He didn't bother with a shirt as he stepped barefoot out onto the small veranda outside of his room. Unobstructed by any other buildings, the villa's guest rooms each provided a stunning view of the ocean. A man should count himself lucky to be in a paradise like this, but at the moment he didn't feel very lucky. His head ached from all of the scotch, and his dreams had been filled with hazy images of Marian. Part of him wanted nothing more than to be back home making pancakes for his son.

Conrad was waiting for him when he emerged from his room. How the man had anticipated that he'd be coming out he would never know, but the butler had a silver server of fresh Blue Mountain coffee waiting him. Without being asked, he poured a cup.

“Good morning, sir.” Despite the smile on the man's face, Robin had the distinct impression that Conrad knew the night before hadn't been the most pleasant.

“Good morning,” Robin replied. “And thank you.”

Nursing the bold brew, he stared at Regina's unopened door thoughtfully. He didn't doubt that she would be hurting as much as he was when she woke. As if by magic, the door cracked open and Regina slunk out looking every bit as ragged as he'd expected. She winced at the bright sunlight streaming through the floor length windows.

“I wasn't expecting to see you up,” she murmured in his general direction.

 He couldn't hold back his grin. “The same could be said for you.”

“I bounce back well.”

Regina accepted a cup of coffee from Conrad and thanked him for it before strolling out to the patio. Uninvited, Robin followed her. He pulled out a seat for her then took his own. Though she eyed him warily, she didn't actually tell him to leave.

“I don't remember going to bed last night,” she commented finally.

He swallowed nervously and considered briefly lying. “You wouldn't. I carried you...but I swear I was a complete gentleman,” he added hastily.

“My clothes were still on, and you don't strike me as the date rape type.” Tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, she met his gaze unflinchingly. He could tell that there was something more she wished to say, but she merely sipped her coffee instead.

“I remember the bakery here being quite good. Now, I know we could simply have Conrad send for a tray for us, but I'm still not quite comfortable with that yet. Would you be interested in taking a walk down with me?” Robin asked.

She looked like she was going to say no at first, but then she set aside her emptied mug. “All right.”

The pair walked along the path in awkward silence. Robin suddenly felt like a sixteen year old on a first date. His gaze kept straying to Regina as she walked, and he couldn't help but appreciate the way her tank top showed just a hint of her cleavage. Even though he had seen her in a bikini less than twenty-four hours earlier, that bit of lace over the tops of her breasts intrigued him. Forcing himself to look at the waves rolling onto the beach, Robin cleared his throat.

“It's actually occurred to me that I don't know a single thing about you, aside from your last name,” he said.

Regina shrugged. “There isn't a whole lot to know. I'm a mother, and I work for a publishing company. I don't have any interesting hobbies or stories to tell.”

“You have children?”

“A son. Henry just turned thirteen.” She paused a moment and cocked her head thoughtfully. “Honestly, I think anything interesting in my life stems from him. He really is the center of my world.”

“Motherhood might be the largest part of your life right now, Regina, but I wholly doubt that the rest of you isn't just as important and just as interesting.” Robin stopped in his tracks and turned to her to gauge her reaction. It was probably the most personal thing he'd said to her since they'd met, and so far, she hadn't invited anything personal between them at all.

To his surprise, she smiled. “Thanks. I can't say I believe you, but I appreciate it.”

He grinned like an idiot, quite pleased that he'd actually been able to elicit that smile. The way her face brightened when those lips of hers curved upwards was amazing. It turned her beauty into something more. Her smile somehow made him happier than he could recall being in a very long time. As much as he knew he should be cautious with his heart, he knew that he didn't want to be. This woman felt like fate to him, and if he wasn't careful, he would find himself in love with her.


	3. 3

Part III

 

“It's four in the morning,” a creaking voice answered on the other end.

“Well, Archie, you are the one who encouraged me to call if anything happened,” she snapped, pulling her robe tighter around her waist and leaning on the veranda's railing.

She could hear him fumbling for his glasses. “And something happened?”

“I had one of my nightmares again,” she told him, still trying to shake off the images that flashed in her mind. “It's been so long since I'd had one that I thought I was finally over them.”

“You know as well as I do that there are a lot of factors that trigger those nightmares for you, Regina. Think about all of the things that have happened since you got there. That way we can identify your trigger and figure out how to work through it. Tell me what's happening with you,” he said in his soothing voice.

Not all that long ago, Regina would have balked at the idea of talking to him about her life. Her first sessions with Archie had ended when she stormed out only a few minutes after walking through his door. Somewhere along the line though, she had started actually talking to him and it helped. She felt lighter after leaving his office, though she'd rip her tongue out rather than admit it. So there she was on a balcony in Jamaica spilling her guts to a nerdy looking man thousands of miles away. She found herself talking about everything from her rocky arrival to her unexpected roommate.

“So you're attracted to him?” Archie asked, with his usual air of understanding.

“He's an attractive man. I'm not quite dead yet. And I don't see why that matters,” she lied. “I've been attracted to and had relationships with other men before.”

“No, you have had physical relationships with men you find _physically_ attractive, but you haven't actually allowed yourself to feel a connection to a man in quite sometime. Feeling a connection to this man scares you. It brings back the pain and guilt you've been using as a shield,” he explained.

“You're not helping,” she ground out through clenched teeth.

“Yes, I am,” the therapist countered without a hint of ego. “The question is, Regina: what are you going to do to help yourself in this situation?”

With a disgusted sigh, Regina hung up the phone without saying so much as goodbye. She'd apologize later—probably. Right now, she was too wired to really think about what he'd said too much. She marched back to the en-suite bathroom and grabbed a bottle of sleeping pills from her bag. If she couldn't talk her way back to sleep, then she would damn well drug herself into it.

In the morning, she was expecting to find Robin standing in the kitchenette drinking his coffee just as he had been the day before. Instead, it was only Conrad. She had to push away her disappointment as the butler handed her a cup.

“Good morning, my lady,” he said with his signature smile. “I hope you slept well.”

“Good morning,” she grumbled in reply, ignoring his question.

“Mr. Locksley scheduled a para-sailing lesson for the day. Is there something I can schedule you for the day?”

“Is it too late to reserve one of the cabanas on the beach?” she asked.

Thankfully, it wasn't too late for Conrad to work his magic. Within half an hour, Regina was sitting in a private cabana with a bucket of her favorite drinks chilling on ice and a stack of magazines at her side. She tried to tell herself that this was where she wanted to be and that she didn't wish Robin was laying on the chaise beside her. Since her conversation with Archie, she had been trying desperately not to think about the possibility that she was genuinely attracted to the man.

Regina watched as a group of drunken twenty-somethings frolicked in the shallow waters along the beach. She tried not to let her bitterness get the best of her, but somehow she kept imagining a shark popping up out of the waters and biting one of the more buxom blondes in half. It was a morbid thought that actually almost made her smile.

“You've got yourself quite a nice spot,” Robin's voice came from behind her making her jump, spilling Red Stripe in her lap. He offered her his own towel with a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that.”

“I thought you were off being a human kite?” she snarked, as she dabbed at the spilled beer.

He sat uninvited on the lounge beside her and shrugged sadly. “It's occurred to me that reliving our adventures isn't quite the kind of remembrance I thought it would be. Rather than freeing me from the past, I feel more bound by it.”

“You can stay here, if you want,” she offered, surprising both of them.

“Thank you,” he said with a pensive smile.

Trying not to pay too much attention as he stripped off his t-shirt, Regina began peeling at the label off of her beer idly. It was strange, but now that he was here, she actually couldn't think of anything to say. They were both on this island to say goodbye to someone they had lost, and it seemed wrong to want anything from Robin right now. Sliding her sunglasses back in place, she continued her efforts to ignore him. Suddenly, a deep chuckle interrupted her attempts.

She frowned. “What's so funny?”

“Nothing much,” he said with wry twinkle in his eye. “I just imagined a Jamaican recreation of Jaws, and for some reason, it struck me as funny.”

“Which one did your shark eat first?”

He nodded toward a muscle-bound frat boy type with horrible kanji tattoos on his arms. “That one. And your shark?”

“Barbie,” she admitted letting her lips curve. “I thought you were too nice to wish death on people.”

“There are a great many things that you don't know about me,” he told her huskily. The look that crossed into those beautiful blue eyes made her suddenly feel weak.

“Red Stripe?” she offered, holding up a bottle. Drinking was easier than taking seemed to be, and she was thankful when he accepted the chilled beer.

“Thank you,” he said.

The pair lounged in an easy silence for quite sometime. Regina tried to nap, but she couldn't help cracking her eye open to get a discreet glance at Robin's tanned shoulders and strong arms. She wanted to trace her fingertips around the outline of the lion tattoo on his forearm. As if somehow reading her thoughts, he opened his eyes and rolled to his back, giving her a view of his flat stomach and broad chest. He gave her a sleepy smile, and promptly shut his eyes again. Despite the heat, she gave into her sudden need to cover up and slid on her wrap, as if that would give her any protection from her growing feelings. She could admit to herself that she was hiding, but she couldn't yet bring herself to do anything about it. _It's only lust,_ she told herself sternly. _Robin's an attractive man, and I'm not quite dead yet. It's just lust._

Eventually, Regina was able to drift off into a blissful nap. By the time she woke up, Robin was gone. She didn't want to acknowledge how much seeing the empty lounge beside her stung. Even though she had the cabana booked all day and it was only a little after lunch, she gathered up her things and walked back to the villa. Along the way, she spotted Conrad who was carrying on of her new found favorite fruit drinks on a tray for her. The butler eyed her suspiciously, and merely stepped beside her along the path. She expected some friendly chatter or helpful offer to come spilling out of his lips,but he remained silent

Sighing heavily, Regina snatched the drink from his tray. “I know you're dying to say something, so spit it out.”

“It's not my place, my lady,” he murmured, for the first time looking uncomfortable and dropping his gaze to the walkway.

“No holds barred,” she said. “You're just as entitled to your opinions as anyone else.”

“Mr. Locksley is not himself today. He seemed very sad when he come back to the villa,” Conrad noted with a frown. “Maybe you could talk to him at dinner?”

“Dinner?”

The butler suddenly coughed. “Apologies, my lady. I assumed when he made the reservations confirming two meals...”

“What reservations?” Regina demanded

“He made reservations for a candle light dinner on the beach tonight. Not that I should be tellin' you that, you see?” Conrad stopped a few feet before the gate and stared straight into Regina's eyes. Few people had the ability to freeze her in her tracks with a look, but there was something in the butler's dark gaze that made Regina feel like she was in church being stared down by the padre.“I get it,” she murmured. “Fix it without revealing my sources. Are you sure I even can fix things?”

“There's things in life that can't be fixed like new, Regina, but doesn't mean that good things can't come from them.”

Without missing another beat, he opened the gate for her and pretended not to see her slack jawed expression. If she'd been at home... If Conrad had been someone else... If one of a million tiny things had been different, Regina would have sliced him down with words sharp enough to cut diamonds, but instead, she simply clamped her mouth shut and strode on by him.

“I'm sure there dozens of dopey-eyed newly weds eating on the beach tonight. Where will Robin be?”

Regina made an appointment at the spa that afternoon. Part of her hoped a good massage would be all it took to clear her mind enough to realize that this was all insanity, but by the time she was slipping on a silk robe over her oiled skin, she was more convinced than ever. She managed to beg the stylist to squeeze her in for that evening. It was strange how the idea of crashing Robin's solitary anniversary didn't seem all that surprising nor all that wrong. Somehow, Conrad's words had given her the courage to go through with the whole thing. She wore a sleek burgundy dress with a plunging neckline that she'd almost left in Storybrooke. As she slid on a coat of her favorite lipstick, she could hardly believe how steady her hands were. The woman in the mirror looked just like her. It was her own dark hair knotted upward elegantly and her own brown eyes that stared back at her, but there was something different that she couldn't place. Before her courage failed, her she slipped out of the villa and made her way down a winding path.

She found Robin on a secluded stretch of beach between a pair of lit torches. His back was to her, and she had to fight the urge to turn tail and run. Regina's mouth went dry as he turned. He was dressed in a black tailored suit that hugged his hips and shoulders perfectly. The expertly starched—by Conrad's hand no doubt—shirt and forest green tie that hung slightly akimbo across his chest made her envious of the cloth. All of her bravado suddenly disappeared in the instant his eyes locked on hers.

“Even on this sort of trip, it's kind of morbid to order two meals and expect a ghost to eat one,” she said, forcing what little strength she had to her voice.

Though he rushed to pull out a chair for her, the look in his eyes was anything but gentlemanly. “For someone who has yet to even say her loved one's name, you're doing an amazing job of critiquing my mourning process.”

“I do hope your wife wasn't big on lamb,” she announced as though he hadn't spoken. “Even I have my problems eating Lambchop.”

“Then by all means, you can have my filet mignon. I do hope you like it medium-rare,” he bit back with a ferocity that she hadn't expected. “Regina, as much as I adore your company, what the hell are you doing here?”

Just when she was about to retreat, Conrad appeared like magic with a bottle of wine clutched delicately in his white gloves. “The 2005 Pavie, as you requested, sir.” The butler uncorked the vintage and poured just a bit for Robin to try.

Still glaring daggers her direction, Robin swirled and sipped the dark, red wine. “It's perfect, Conrad. Just as I remembered.” He gave the butler a forced, but somehow genuine smile. “Thank you.”

Regina thanked Conrad, hoping that he would somehow understand that she meant for more than just the glass of superb wine. She swore that she could see some kind of mystical twinkle in his eyes in the candle light. Sipping the raspberry-toned liquid, she was able to summon up just a bit of her former conviction. “His name was Daniel,” she whispered as Conrad's form retreated along the pathway.

“I shouldn't have snapped at you,” Robin replied softly.

“You have every right to question my motives,” she said with a shrug. “I haven't been exactly forthcoming with the details about my past, but that doesn't mean I don't care. Marian was your wife, and you have every right to mourn her in your own way. I just don't think that you really want to do it alone. If I'm wrong, tell me and I'll go.”

He took a sip of his own wine and stared out to the rolling waves. “You're not wrong. It's just...” his voice faltered. “It's just not right for me to want you tonight. I can't get you out of my head when I should be thinking of her. The worst part is that I know it will be just the same—maybe even worse—if you go.”

“My therapist would tell you that it's a natural part of moving on,” she said echoing Archie's parting words to her that very morning.

“This is much harder than I thought moving on would be,” he said with a dark chuckle. He eyed her curiously. “Are you moving on?”

Unable to say the words entirely, she played with the hem of her napkin. “I'm here, aren't I?”

The appetizer course came before the could say much else. A plate of foist-grois for Regina and beef carpaccio for Robin arrived, and they both became overly interested in the expertly plated fare before them. She took extra care to spear just the perfect amount of the seared duck liver, vinaigrette, and arrugala while pretending not to be watching Robin doing the same with his own plate. Second glasses of wine gave them each the courage to look up from their meals.

“So far, I would say Marian had good taste,” she murmured in appreciation as the salad plate was removed.

 “And Daniel?” he asked in return.

 Regina laughed as memory took hold. “He wouldn't have been able to tell a Quarter Pounder from kobe beef.”

“Looking at you, I doubt he could have been anything but a man of discerning tastes,” Robin quipped as he pushed aside the china.

Before she could guard her words, they were out her mouth. “He was still a boy when he died. Eighteen is hardly a man.”

“Oh. My apologies, I assumed...” Robin looked away quickly. “I assumed he had been older.”

“I wish he had been.” The tightening in Regina's chest was familiar and just as unpleasant as always, but somehow it was a duller pain than she was expecting. She went on without giving it too much thought: “Daniel died in a car chase when we were on our way back home from our Vegas wedding. My mother had reported my Mustang as stolen. To this day, I can't say why he ran from the cops, but we ended up wrapped around a tree.”

Empathy tinged Robin's eyes instead of the sympathy she had come to expect. “I'm sorry.”

“And I'm sorry Marian's not here for this. Even if you weren't meant to be together, she deserved to live.” Regina raised her glass. “To Marian and Daniel.”

“They both deserved better,” he finished the toast before downing his glass in a single gulp.

Letting out a deep sarcastic chuckle, Robin began refilling his glass. “Believe it or not, I'm not much of a drinker back home.”

“Of all of the things I've thought to accuse you of this week, an alcoholic didn't make the list.” Cocking her head to the side, Regina was suddenly filled with curiosity. “Where is home anyway?”

“Cape Elizabeth, Maine.”

“That is _not_ a Maine accent you have there,” she quipped.

“England may have been my birth place, but New England is my home,” he explained, refilling her glass. “I was in a band when I was younger. We never could find much success in London, so one of my bandmates had the brilliant idea that maybe New York would be a better start for us. Six months later, I was the only one left in the states.”

“Why'd you stay?” she asked.

Robin's smile dimmed. “Marian.”

“So on behalf of all of the female residents of Maine, I guess we have Marian to thank for your presence.” Regina hadn't meant the words to come out of her mouth, but the second they did, she realized that she'd given too much away.

“You're from Maine?”

“Storybrooke.”

“Never heard of it,” he said as he poured the remains of the bottle into her glass. “I bet it’s a nice town.”

_In for a penny, in for a pound_ , she thought to herself dryly as she accepted the glass. “Speaking as the mayor, I’d have to say it’s one of the best undiscovered towns on the coast,” she told him with her best political smile.

“Well, Madame Mayor, I will have to discover it for myself sometime,” he said with a chuckle.

Almost as if on cue, Conrad appeared with another bottle of wine—this one a fine white to go along with their dessert. He winked at Regina as he swept away the emptied Pavie without a word. She took her first sip of the new vintage and immediately closed her eyes in appreciation. “For someone who isn’t much of a dinker, you sure know your wines,” she murmured.

Robin shrugged. “I spent almost a week online looking up wines before our honeymoon. Back then, I didn’t have a whole lot—by her standards, and Marian had become accustomed to the finer things in life with her family. Her father paid for the villa as a gift, but I was determined to at least give her one night to remember.” I researched the best wines I could find under a hundred dollars a bottle,” he raised he glass. “I’d say I did pretty well for a man with a taste for beer and the occasional scotch.”

“Very well,” Regina agreed. “Daniel had quite a fine taste for wine coolers and light beer stolen from his parent’s fridge.”

“I bet he was quite the romantic,” Robin said with a smile. “Even then, I doubt you would have loved just anyone.”

“He was the first person to see me instead of the person my parents wanted me to be,” she said, thinking back to the days when Daniel would work on his old Camero in his grease covered jeans while she watched from her perch on the trunk of her shiny new Mustang. “He worked at a garage and changed my oil over spring break my senior year. I went to a private school, and he was at the local public, so I’d never seen him before. Back then, no one ever talked to me the way he did—like I had a choice in my own life. He didn’t even see me as an ungrateful brat for not wanting the life that was being handed to me on a silver tray. God, I loved him for it.”

 The sun was sinking into the far off waves, and combined with the wine was casting a spell over her. What had started out as a melancholy evening about another woman and another man had some how skewed. She wasn’t sure if Robin felt it too, but it was the first time thinking about the past didn’t rip her open. The lower the sun sank, the more she could appreciate her past without feeling that sharp sting that had always been there before. They were both quiet for a long while as the last rays of the sun sunk over the horizon.

“We were luck to have them,” Robin murmured, breaking Regina's trance. “And now we’re even luckier.”

“Are we?” she asked. 

He nodded and held his hand across the table. “We’ve got a second chance. How many people can say that they get to have that kind of love even once in a life time, let alone the chance to find it again?”

Slipping her fingers into his grasp. “I didn’t believe in second chances.”

“Do you now?” His eyes glimmered in the candle light and burned right through her.

“I want to.”


End file.
